


run when i let go

by levintiana



Category: League, League of Legends
Genre: FUCKIGN ZED, Ionia - Freeform, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST how many tags for zed dad do i need, Kayn, Kayn League of Legends - Freeform, League of Legends - Freeform, Noxus, Other, Runeterra, Shieda Kayn League of Legends, Zed - Freeform, Zed League of Legends, govos - Freeform, govos usan zed - Freeform, ionian, kayn & zed - Freeform, kayn (league of legends) - Freeform, kayn and zed, kayn is zed's son, kayn son, kayn zed, league - Freeform, noxian, noxians, parent, shieda kayn (league of legends) - Freeform, shieda kayn and zed, usan - Freeform, yanlei, zed & kayn, zed (league of legends) - Freeform, zed and kayn, zed and kayn bond, zed and kayn bonding, zed and shieda kayn, zed dad, zed dad moment, zed father, zed govos, zed is kayn's dad, zed kayn, zed parent, zed parental responsibility, zed usan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28471635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levintiana/pseuds/levintiana
Summary: a father-son walk through a forest full of stars is abruptly cut short by noxian foragers — yet the boy does not know why
Relationships: Kayn & Zed, Shieda Kayn & Zed
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19
Collections: League of Legends





	run when i let go

**Author's Note:**

> -i profusely apologize for any typos or anything like that (it's 5 am and i have brain damage)  
> -this is all from the pov of zed  
> -for context kayn is like ten in this 
> 
> i just felt like writing some dad zed :') he very nice :')

In my childhood I had always been taught that the distant snapping of twigs was a sure indicator that someone lingered. From all personal experience, hearing the rustling of branches and bushes from afar had never once been a good sign, and tonight was no exception.

I squint into the near distance and am able to just recognize the bulky silhouettes of a dozen figures wandering aimlessly through the twists in the trees of the very forest we share. The glows of their burning torches flickered relentlessly as ecstasies of their careless bickering and yelling immediately sent murders of crows into flight from their nests.

Noxian foragers, no doubt.

The lack of a ruby cape draping from the steel platings of their chestguards had been a sign clear as day that these were not soldiers of the Trifarian Legion. Rather, that the strangers of this land were hunters; evident from the brown and leathered uniforms they so proudly flaunted. Disgustingly Noxian nonetheless, though I can't place their exact origins.

Deafening shots of a gun ring out through the air and reverberate through the woods. Sick cackles follow the sound of bullets escaping their cartridges, falling to the ground with soft thuds. Their boots squelch under the mud they trudge through, in the dampest section of the forest where rain remains constant throughout the year.

Unaware of our presence, three or four of them loosed careless barrages of arrows into the air to bury themselves deep in the trunks of trees or into the ground, spread out over fifty or sixty yards.

As I reach for the two shurikens bound to my waist by a small rope, I weigh my choices. I cannot ensure it will be enough. I consider turning back, yet I am drawn to stay. I sometimes confide myself in the traditional Ionian saying, "Noxian before "human". I never hesitate myself to question its truth, and I refuse to doubt that they would not have an identical version for us.

Bastards.

Feeling jagged breaths catch in my throat to tear their way through my lips, I brace for the ice shards of cold air to pierce my throat and lungs again. Foolishly, the only warmth I had provided for myself was a sleeveless fur coat. The gunshot echoes had left the hair on the back of my neck standing up. Guns.

They have guns.

Noxians don't _wield_ guns.

One more agonizing breath rips from my chest and I turn my back on the haunting flares of their golden torches. From behind the cracks in the treebranches, I peered at the audacious intruders behind, hand reaching for the weapons laced into my belt. 

On any other night, I'd have them all dead in seconds. Perhaps minutes, if they had made an effort in fighting back — which they never do. At least, to me, that is what it seems. But having Kayn with me, restraining myself was vital. I couldn't have massacred them then. Not with Kayn watching me.

Not with Kayn there.

All of them are armed, with guns, and bows, and axes, and swords. All of my priorities are on getting him out of the forest we had weaved our way into. Another flurry of arrows fires over us and he reflexively drops to the ground, taking cover behind a tree. After the downpour, all is eerily silent again.

"Come here," I whisper-yell calmly, though I worry he may recognize the obvious cracks in my voice as cowardly vulnerability. All I wished for was to spend the evening with him and he could have easily gotten shot dead right in front of where I stood.

He wastes no time scurrying back to me from where he hid, avoiding the arrowheads etched into the ground before clumsily falling into my arms. I can tell from his grasp that he just wants to be home and my heart sinks. He's shaking.

I tighten my grip around his back while he lazily slings his arms behind my neck, resting his head on my shoulder as I pull him in for a spontaneous hug. He's oddly warm for such a cold night out, courtesy of the red scarf of mine that he's wearing. I can hardly see his face in the dark. The moon shining over the trees and in the reflection of his amber eyes is the only light I can possibly work with.

"Kayn." I speak again, careful to keep the fear in my voice to a minimum. He gives only a soft hum in response. I hold him by the sides of his shoulders cloaked in the crimson cloth belonging to me and I bring him to meet my eyes. He looks exhausted, and I can't help but let my heart twinge with guilt for bringing him here with me altogether.

"When I let go, you are to run that way, alright?"

I gesture with my head directly to the paved grassway behind him, and he drowsily tilts his head to look. Confusion glimmers in his eyes again, but he understands what's been asked of him. At least somewhat.

"What about you?" He cocks his head to the side and I watch the puzzled expression on his face immediately fall into fear as he stares right into the souls of the rogue hunters who very much could have murdered him in cold blood just a few yards away. 

"Don't worry about me.'' I whisper. "Go, now."

My voice is breaking, though I'm not going to let myself cry. The wind blows his raven hair into his face and he reaches to push it out of the way. It barely falls past his shoulders, and I notice that he hadn't tied it back like I advised him to earlier. Instead, he had tied the small red string into a ribbon on his ring finger, just as he had seen me do before. He had always preferred to let his hair down. He kindly reaches to loosen the scarf around his neck to give to me. A humble gesture. 

"No."

Now I really could cry.

I take his trembling hands in mine and to stop him from taking it off. He sadly furrows his eyebrows at me, a look which I've hardly seen on him, and I wrap the warm maroon fabric around him again. "It's okay. Keep it, and stay warm."

I force my eyes back up from the bow he tied around his finger to meet his eyes again. "I'll come right back for you, but I need you to go now." I gently pat his shoulder twice and offer a half smile to him, though I feel sick even faking it. "Go on, Shie."

Shie. A simple nickname I had found for him just weeks after meeting him. Derived from "Shieda", a name I had hand-chosen for him myself. In this moment, it seems to bring me more comfort than to him. I had always reserved these nicknames only for special occasions, but such paranoia engraved into my mind now lead me to believe this would be the last time.

I damn myself for even thinking such a thing.

It felt wrong. He felt safe and warm in my arms, and I had to let him go. Go off into the dim panes of the dark forest, alone. No boy of only ten summers should have to run from death. He had done it before, only four seasons' worth ago when he was still residing in Noxus, and was now tragically fated to do the same again.

I had only a few extra daggers on me, the ones I always carry, and enough energy to channel a couple of shadow clones. I've tackled one on fifties before and had came out with only a few scratches or scars, alive to tell the story to all of my students. One versus twelve could fare well enough, though I had no armor. It's a risk I'm more than willing to take. Twelve less sub-humans would do this country a favor.

I hadn't noticed that Kayn had been holding onto my lower arm the whole time I had spoken to him. He hesitantly lets go, and he turns to sprint into the shrouded mist just as I had told him. As he runs, I can see the strings on his boots gliding so inelegantly and that's when I realize that I had forgotten to tie his laces for him.

I can only pray to any god who can hear me, any god at all, that Kayn please remembers to stick to the path I had walked with him on. And that he would, for the love of any god again, remember to tie his damned laces for once.


End file.
